


Heir to the Empire

by VicenteValtieri



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 7 and 8 are pretty established, BDSM, Canon-Sorta-Compliant, Comments Motivate Me, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Empire of the Hand, Forget ROS Just forget it, Hux lives, I mean, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mpreg, OCs - Freeform, Palps had an actual plan that made sense, Sith Training, Sith!Thrawn, Spanking, always wanted to use that tag, but I changed everything from 9 basically, duh - Freeform, fast burn, fixit, just read the story, or right, please tell me what I'm doing wrong, thrawn is a sith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22561555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicenteValtieri/pseuds/VicenteValtieri
Summary: A Galaxy cast into chaos...Following the events of Rise of Skywalker, Emperor Palpatine has finally kicked the bucket leaving the First Order in shambles and the Republic believing their victory is complete. But the real war is only just beginning as a new head grows into the Emperor's place and orders an immediate tactical retreat to the strongholds in Wild Space and the Unknown Regions - in reality the Empire of the Hand. Kylo, re-christened Ben, and Rey - soulmates - are faced with the challenge of pursuing the truth of the Empire's loss and the death of all heads of the First Order.Armitage Hux - last survivor of the First Order force sent to Exegol - languishes trapped in a cell and waiting for death after his co-commander's treachery...
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Iram Radique/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, kylo ren/armitage hux
Comments: 61
Kudos: 104





	1. Abandoned in the Dark

Armitage backed away from Kylo’s lightsaber. “Supreme Leader, listen to me – Please, Kylo, don’t-!”

“Into that room.” Kylo directed with the lightsaber. 

“What are you doing? You can’t actually be thinking of doing this.” Armitage protested as he backed into the small emergency quarters. “Kylo?!”

“Kylo is dead.” The man wearing Kylo’s body gritted out. “Just get in there. I’m going to seal you in. You’ll be fine until rescue comes.”

“This is a dying world with an impassable atmosphere. What rescue do you think is coming?!” Armitage backed up another step. “How can you do this, Kylo? You’re going to destroy everything!”

“No. I am going to save everything.” Kylo pushed him the last step into the small chamber. “You’ll get out eventually. It’ll be fine.” The door closed and Hux heard the unmistakable sound of the lightsaber cutting into the lock, melding the wires shut. He’d probably be able to get out assuming – 

The lights went out and the small room plunged into darkness. Kylo cut too much and the power was cut now. 

Armitage let a small sob escape him as the sheer dark closed in. The idiot couldn’t even commit treason without screwing it up. 

They’d come to Exegol to meet Emperor Palpatine. The old man called the First Order to him from across the galaxy, summoned them. Snoke was his puppet, which didn’t surprise Hux. He’d never been impressed by Kylo’s master. 

Still, on the way he was struck by nausea and waves of dread. He took a soothing pill and stood straighter in response. Kylo gave him an odd look. “Something you want to tell me, General?”

“No, Supreme Leader. I’m simply… Struck.” He looked forward, towards the black planet. 

“Very well. Struck is a good word for my feelings as well.” Kylo frowned and turned back to the cockpit. “We’re coming in for the approach.”

Armitage leaned against the wall in the dark and listened. It was pitch black. He’d felt out most of the room, and it didn’t look good. He reached out and put a hand on the smooth wall. It was clearly a prison cell of some kind. There was a refresher bolted to the wall – toilet and sink included in one – no shower, but he didn’t expect one. A modest pallet bolted to the other wall, and a box of supplies. Merciful. Strange to be so grateful for a dozen ration bars and a small, thin blanket. He’d started rationing immediately. There was no way to call for help in this dark hell. He tried not to check his wrist monitor. The battery couldn’t last long. He’d had a small meal on their way to Exegol. It would hold him for twenty-four hours if he didn’t move around. 

There was nothing for him to do anyway. He pulled off a glove and scratched at the anxious itches appearing all over his face and scalp. When the itching stopped – at least briefly – he began to nibble at the cracks in his cuticles. It had been a long time since he’d taken care of them properly. 

The Emperor was a broken, dying shell. Armitage could sense it, even as they stood before him. The man’s machinery aides swung him hither and thither so he could see and speak to them. But his time was almost up. Armitage almost felt sorry for him. 

“…The heir to my Empire and I will soon introduce you…” The old man’s gravely voice spoke. “But there is no time for pleasantries. The rebellion is on the way.”

“There is a girl. A Scavenger. Let me go to them.” Kylo pleaded. He was always so eager to impress. Hux rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d tried to impress the ‘Supreme Leader.’ “I can bring her to you. Together, we’ll turn her and she will rule the galaxy with us.”

“Go then.” The Emperor’s yellow eyes followed Kylo as he rushed out and he turned back to Hux. “His character is weak. He thinks to turn Rey, but he will fall.”

“Kylo Ren has never been a rebel sympathizer, even if he was raised in their space.” Hux spoke up in Kylo’s defense. “He has much to learn – especially about command – and he’s certainly not fit to lead the Empire, but he is not a traitor.”

“You speak because of your affections.” The Emperor rebuked him. “And I do not fault you for them. Your loyalty – even to a leader you dislike – is admirable. But he will fall. The girl is stronger than she knows.” 

Hux stopped biting his nails when he tasted blood. He pressed his hands into his eyes. If he wasn’t going to be able to escape on his own, he might as well sleep. Briefly, he checked his wrist monitor. His heart rate was elevated – stress no doubt – and it was well into the third shift. He wished his watch had a communication function. The most he could hope for was someone would find his datapad and realize he was still alive if they accessed its monitoring functions. But to do that they would need his password. And that was assuming someone out there was alive who would care.

He wondered how long he would last if no one came for him. Twelve days at least. Plus thirty more after that if the statistics were to be believed. He had plenty of water from the sink, so it would definitely be starvation that killed him. 

He could probably last a little longer if he broke each ration bar in half. Probably. The bars were nutrient dense, but you were intended to eat two in a day. Three for certain troopers. He might be at one and a half. 

He clenched his fists to keep himself from looking at his watch. He had to conserve the battery. He should sleep. It would save energy, make the time pass faster, and lower his stress levels. Hopefully. 

Please let him sleep.


	2. Monument to the Emperor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, y'all!

Rain fell on Exegol almost constantly. The dark, dusky remains of the planet were covered by constant clouds and lightning. In the atmosphere, the remains of the First Order’s mighty fleet were slowly falling to the earth. In a wrecked citadel, the collapsed figure of a man in a black robe laid at the bottom of a mighty construct. And over that figure, a protective shield and a son in denial, Thrawn lay with his face buried in the damp, black fabric of his Father’s robes. They’d long gone cold and stiff, just like the man beneath them. Pushing himself up, Thrawn heard the pop and creak of his joints. He’d been lying there for a long time. 

The cold environment of Exegol was kind to its decomposition. Thrawn smoothed himself down, taking in the wreck left behind. He’d been on the other side of the world when his Father died and he sensed the girl – Rey, his niece – and Kylo Ren leaving. Ben Solo now, as his Father’s vision decreed. It took him three days to make the trip to the citadel, returning from the wild goose chase he’d been sent on. He recognized his Father’s cleverness now. He’d been kept out of the way of fate. 

Briefly, he considered lying back down in his denial position, but he’d been still for too long. Every minute, resources were wasted and lives lost. Still, he couldn’t simply leave his Father behind there, left in his defeat. 

Thrawn reached out to the Force and manipulated the citadel. He’d done this before, with superheated metals flowing like liquid. It was more difficult with solid matter, but he’d used it to his advantage all these years. His father’s monument needed to be expressive of who his Father was. Something simple, but multifaceted. Pillars of black metal to rest a beacon on top of. The dark and the light, merging and twisting with each other. 

Yin and yang spun between Thrawn’s fingers as he wove the world to his whim. Long nights, discussing the concepts of good and evil, subjective and objective, flowed through his memory. Distinct ideas entwining with each other and creating a new whole unlike to each of them. 

The resulting statue was chaotic, but orderly. Above all, when Thrawn admired the folds of metal and inscribed words, he saw his Father. Father in all faces he’d known him as. Though he’d been born only a year before the second death star was destroyed, he’d seen his Father’s mind enough to know who he’d been and who he’d become. And he’d seen enough of life in his 31 years to know the galaxy for what it was. The stars reflected the Emperor as he ran his hand over the top of the monument. It was an awkward position for it – crouched low beneath the ruins – but that too was fitting. Thrawn turned away and his short cape flared behind him as he set out into the new day. 

Thrawn found little left of his Father’s constructions on Exegol. Of course, this was by design. A devastated crater for the Rebellion to fawn over. But nothing truly of value was kept here. Nothing vital built. He dismissively flicked his hand and knocked over a standing pillar. It went down with a crash and he continued up to one of the few remaining life signatures on the planet. 

The lieutenant turned ashen and held out his blaster when he saw Thrawn. “Go away.” He was sitting in a guard position beside a First Order shuttle. Sleeker and more elegant than the lambda shuttles his Father stocked them with. 

“Stand up and salute your superior.” Thrawn at once ordered, his voice a little gravelly from screaming in grief. “I am Emperor Thrawn Beauregard Palpatine.”

The mousy lieutenant slowly lowered the blaster and stood up. “Do you have some proof – ulp!” He was lifted a few inches off the ground and squeaked. Thrawn didn’t hurt him. The question was reasonable. Instead, he examined him as if the lieutenant was a half-drowned kitten. 

“What are you waiting for, Lieutenant? Why have you stayed instead of leaving?” Thrawn set him down on his feet again. 

“I’m waiting for General Hux, Emperor, sir.” The lieutenant tried to straighten into attention. “He has yet to report in. I can’t go back without him. And, well, the atmosphere..” Clearly, the shuttle was not shielded as Thrawn expected.

“General Hux?” The name struck a chord in the Force. “Is he still alive?”

Mitaka reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device that showed some vital signs. “According to his monitor watch, he is still alive, sir.”

“Does this device have a tracking function?” Thrawn took the object and examined it. It had a few buttons, though none of them changed the information on the screen. 

“No. Monitoring only.” Mitaka was shuddering. 

Thrawn closed his eyes and sensed out. There were three life signs – not counting his own – on Exegol at the moment. The dead planet was barely twitching in the Force. His Father’s presence was fading away. Thrawn’s presence curled through Exegol down to a line of cells. His Father placed them there to keep opponents in Thrawn’s earlier training, before he outgrew the need for victims. There was life in one of the cells.

“Follow me.” He ordered the lieutenant, turning on his heel.

“Yes, sir.” Mitaka squeaked and came after Thrawn, scrambling over the cracked and uneven floor. They were lucky the landing pad hadn’t fallen apart in the bombardment. Thrawn guided his nervous follower over the safest path. If he were alone, he’d have taken a more expeditious route. 

The Force curled close around him as he continued down the hall. The last trained Force user alive swept through the blackened planet. Stopping before the door, he noted the damage. Someone tried to melt the lock to prevent the door from opening rather than actually locking the door. Clumsy and stupid. Especially given the main power circuits were routed through the door controls. If anyone tried to break into this cell by cutting the lock, the power would disconnect and the cell would effectively seal.

“Ren.” Mitaka numbly recognized the lightsaber work. “Can you get it open, sir?” He clustered close in on himself. 

Thrawn stepped back from the door and held out a hand. The door creaked, groaned, then flung itself up and out of the way, flooding the room with dim light.


	3. Rescue and Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next couple chapters will have more exposition and explain what's going on exactly. For now, just hang on.

Armitage woke up – still in the dark – the next day. He nibbled a ration bar and rested. The dark cell was mostly insulated, so it was still warm, but he could feel it was less warm. He pressed a hand to the wall and it was cooler. Had something happened to the citadel’s climate control?

Kylo – Ben Solo, whatever he was – had probably happened to it. Armitage wearily turned over on his stomach and found the position too uncomfortable to maintain. He hoped he wouldn’t vomit. He couldn’t afford to lose the food he’d just consumed. 

Maybe Kylo – Ben – had called a search party. Exegol was naturally fortified by its atmosphere. It would take time for them to get here. He closed his eyes – it didn’t matter – it was too dark to see, but it made him feel better. 

He was thirsty. Taking the empty ration bar package, he created a cup with it and poured himself a drink from the sink. The water tasted like copper with a slight tinge of the rotten and humid atmosphere outside. Leaning against the construct, he felt the vibrations from the pipes. The wall was only a quarter inch thick covering the insulation. If he had something heavy he could swing at it or even his blaster, he might be able to create a weak spot to punch through. 

Heavy. Something heavy. He felt his way around the room. The supply box was too light. The bed had no posts, and even if he managed to unbolt it, he could hardly swing the whole pallet against the wall. If he broke the sink and toilet, he would lose his only source of water – a vital resource – and the parts for both seemed too small and flimsy for the task. He needed something he could make into a hammer. Dragging the thin mat off of the berth, he felt all over it and found the bedframe was a simple chain frame with a bare-bones mesh holding it off the floor. What was interesting were the massive bolts holding the chain up. If he could get one loose, it might work as the “head” of his hammer. But they were screwed in tight and possibly welded. Still, it was his best option. Only option.

His fingers were tender and bled as soon as he started to apply muscle. He persevered, opening himself to more pain. If only he hadn’t bit his nails down so hard the previous day. The bolt didn’t budge and it only grew slippery and hard to handle as his blood coated it. Pulling out a handkerchief, he wrapped it around the head and tried to use it for friction. It didn’t help, but it kept him occupied as he wrestled with the unyielding metal. Damn, if only Kylo were able to help. But Kylo was a traitor and Hux was alone.

His mind still refused to accept Kylo as the treacherous whelp he became. Kylo was never a model of the First Order, but his strong hatred of the Rebellion should have kept him with them. Not to mention… But it didn’t bear thinking about now. He felt sick. Abandoning the stuck bolt, he laid back down and cradled his injured hands. He would try again when they stopped hurting so much. 

After hours of work, the bolt budged. Armitage spent almost thirty minutes more getting it unwound. He’d never get the other one off. It left the bed pallet hanging from the single chain and unusable, but the thin mattress and pillow were laid out in the narrow stretch at the back of the cell. Either way, he’d managed to get his hammer – or as good as he was going to get. It wasn’t a great hammer, but maybe it would work. No handle. Just the head. 

Calling on his knowledge of Imperial design, Armitage estimated a junction of the power lines and began pounding. It was an awkward position – half kneeling and swinging with all the might one arm could deliver at a point he couldn’t see. He was certain his range of hits was far larger than would be efficient. But he couldn’t risk smashing his other hand in his blind task. 

Then, the door sprang open, catching him in that odd position, trying to guide his hand and banging on the wall, futile. 

Armitage sprang to his feet in the sudden and blinding light. When his eyes adjusted – quickly, too quickly. The light wasn’t very bright – he saw both Mitaka and a stranger in a white and black tunic. “Lieutenant, report.” He coughed, stepping out of the cramped room. “What’s the situation?”

“Kylo Ren left with the Scavenger, sir.” Mitaka’s palpable relief turned into eager professionalism. “The shuttle is secure. I’ve stood guard for the past four days while I waited for you to return. I’ve sent eight updates to the fleet, but received no response.”

“Hopefully, there’s something left of the fleet to possibly respond.” Hux hollowly replied. He shook himself and drew himself up. “I am General Hux of the First Order. Who are you?” He greeted the stranger, who’d observed them both with his keen, red eyes. Hux had an impression – briefly – of something massive and undefinable trapped inside the form of a male humanoid.

“I am Thrawn Beauregard Palpatine. Emperor.” The stranger introduced himself, rocking Hux to his core. “My Father is dead. There’s nothing left for either First Order or Empire here. Let’s be off.” Thrawn turned and began making his way back to the shuttle. 

“Wait a minute… Emperor.” Hux had to walk almost twice as fast as normal to keep up with Thrawn. “Even if I believed you were the Emperor’s son, what makes you think you can command me? I’m a First Order officer and I was not convinced by this Last Order nonsense Allegiant General Pryde was spouting. The events of the past week have done nothing to convince me following you would be wise.”

“I understand your doubts, but there is not much time. My Father’s death has set off a chain of events that I must get ahead of. For now, know this: Pryde is part of an elaborate smokescreen my father and I constructed in order to throw the Rebellion and the Jedi off our track. The Last Order, similarly, is a vacant shell.” Thrawn immediately responded. His voice was dark and cultured. “I would explain more, but I must ask that you trust me for now. If you cannot, then I suggest you simply follow me to my rendezvous point and I will release you both to return to whatever remains of your First Order.”

“This had best be one of the best explanations I’ve ever heard.” Armitage followed Thrawn to the shuttle bay, taking note of the forming cracks. “If you are the Emperor’s son, I assume you are Force Sensitive and can escort us through the atmosphere.”

“Of course.” Thrawn simply replied. “Lieutenant Mitaka, start pre-flight checks. Do a cold lift before engaging the engines efficiently. When the Rebellion arrives, I do not want them to find burn marks. If they suspect we survived, it may cause problems. Now, does any member of the Rebellion know either of you are alive?”

“Kylo Ren – now Ben Solo, I believe. He locked me in that cell. Assuming he isn’t dead.”

“He is not. I sensed both him and the Scavenger leaving Exegol. This complicates matters somewhat. Follow me. Lieutenant Mitaka, prepare the shuttle.”


	4. The Decoy

They didn’t go far. The citadel was full of human bodies. All they needed to do was find one roughly Hux’s size. “Lieutenant Mitaka will be overlooked, you are the important character to the Rebellion.” Thrawn commented as he compared several officers to the general. He finally settled on one with brown hair and the same skin tone. “Does the Rebellion have a DNA sample from you?”

“Not as far as I know. It’s possible, if they chose to access the DNA verification bank, but our officers’ identities have never been their priority on information raids. We do not hide behind – “ Thrawn cut him off before he could get into a rant about the guerilla tactics the Rebellion used. 

“Yes, yes, fascinating.” The Chiss was stripping the corpse. “Take off your uniform. Swap it.”

“Swap with – No!” Armitage exclaimed as Thrawn pulled off the filthy uniform. “I am not going to wear someone else’s soiled – “ He was cut off again.

“We do not have time for this. If the Resistance sees either of us, it could be disastrous. I don’t care if you fly out of Exegol naked. Give me your uniform. Now.” His voice took on a timbre that could only be described as impatient and dangerous. 

Armitage stripped, handing over each piece of uniform as they came off. Thrawn re-dressed the officer with care, not looking up at the General as he did. When it was done to the Chiss’s satisfaction, he rocked back on his ankles and then looked up, about to say something. The moment his eyes fell on Armitage, he froze.

Scowling, Armitage tried to cover himself up. He was dressed in his undergarments – a black corset with red roses stitched onto it, black silk briefs, and several garters designed to hold the pieces of his uniform straight. “Stop staring like that.”

“Does anyone know about your… choice of undergarments?” Thrawn gestured at him. 

Armitage immediately saw what he was getting at and his shoulders slumped. “Kylo Ren did.”

Thrawn pulled off his short cape and handed it to the red-head. “Then I must ask for your undergarments as well.”

“This is my favorite corset.” Armitage began undoing the stays. 

“I will get you another, if it is so important.” Thrawn turned away to give him privacy, stripping the soldier again. 

The short cape covered Armitage from his armpits to half-thigh when he was done. “Is there anywhere I can get a clean change of clothes?”

“My quarters here are minimal, but I do have a change of clothes.” He gave Armitage brief instructions and a code cylinder. “Return as soon as possible to the shuttle.” He continued to work on creating their decoy and the stripped General hurried off. He was glad Mitaka couldn’t see him like this.

When Hux returned to the hangar, wrapped in a black robe made of finer cloth than he’d ever felt on his skin before, Mitaka and Thrawn had staged his suicide. In direct contradiction with earlier orders, Mitaka had clearly burned marks from the shuttle’s thrusters into the floor. Thrawn had propped the officer up against the wall near the door with a high-caliber blaster set to full in his hand. The officer’s head was entirely disintegrated and splattered over the door and the wall. 

Thrawn crouched back on his haunches and observed the scene. He nodded once. “…You escaped the cell Kylo placed you in – either with help or alone – and returned to the hangar where the shuttle was left only to find it empty. Thinking yourself lost and falling into despair, you chose to end your life rather than wait to starve or be captured.”

“Very dramatic and somewhat out of character of me.” Hux dryly crossed his arms. “But good enough for now. Kylo might smell a rat, but it will fool anyone else. Unless they notice any particulate hair isn’t red.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that. If the Rebellion follows their usual investigative protocol, they’ll conclude you are dead and leave further discussion to the historians in favor of a party of some sort. Come. Let’s get out of here.” The Chiss stood up and led up into the shuttle, both humans staring after him.

“General?” Mitaka quietly asked. “What now?” The hand on his blaster might have been intimidating if Hux didn’t know what the lieutenant’s combat scores looked like.

“For now, we follow him.” General Hux stated firmly, tugging the over-large pants around his waist back up. “There’s no other way off this planet for us.”

“I was afraid you’d say that, sir.” Mitaka gripped his blaster a little harder.

“I know. So was I.” They followed Thrawn up into the shuttle.


	5. Taste the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Reylo for you thirsty dogs!

Ben held his dark eyes closed. The Force was disturbed – like always. He’d felt such a perfect moment of clarity on Exegol: Save Hux by keeping him out of the way, go to Rey, defeat Palpatine. So simple. A mission, even. Just like the ones he did for Snoke every few weeks. He’d thought it meant he was finally going to be at peace. That he’d resolved the torturous battle inside his head.

But the Force was still there. The battling Dark and Light, wrestling with each other in his chest. Nothing changed. Just like after he killed his Father, he was every inch as conflicted as before. Was there an answer to his problem? Was there something he could do, defeat, fight that would bring him peace? His Uncle was gone. His mother and Father died trying to save him. If he’d turned back with Han, what would have happened?

He had a brief vision of walking out of the Millenium Falcon and embracing his mother as she rushed to meet him. His fist and heart clenched at the same time and a piece of cutlery on the table before him bent in half. Guiltily, he released his hand and tried to straighten the spork, but it wouldn’t go straight again. 

Nothing could ever be the same again. If he’d stayed with Hux and sided with Palpatine, what would have happened? Rey was powerful, but not unbeatable. Working in concert, he might have been able to strike her down. Then what? Palpatine’s plan was… incomprehensible. He’d formed a new order with Snoke as its head. A puppet ruler for a puppet order. He’d let them all grow in strength and he’d nurtured Kylo through Snoke.

“I am all the voices you have ever heard…” The old man admitted to Kylo. Hux took the information in, standing in the background behind Kylo as all of Kylo’s knowledge of the Dark and the Light came tumbling down around him. He’d never heard his Grandfather or the ancient Sith. It was all the Emperor. The culmination of the Sith? Maybe. 

Not Kylo’s culmination. Hux sensed that, maybe. He stayed behind when Kylo made an excuse and rushed off to find Rey. To put himself right. Kylo didn’t want to leave Hux with Palpatine. It wasn’t safe. But he needed Rey in that moment. He needed Rey more than Hux. 

The realization hurt more than he wanted to admit. His relationship with the General was… Hard to explain. Unlike his others. Hux was different from everyone else. His Knights were subservient to him, First Order soldiers afraid of him, but Hux refused to be intimidated. He was indomitable. Servant to none but himself. For as long as Kylo knew him, he’d had a thousand plans to destroy anyone above or opposed to him. It didn’t matter if he was defeated at the moment. 

He would rise again. 

“Ben.” Rey put a hand on Kylo’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Kylo – Ben – jumped. “I’m just having trouble processing everything.” He excused himself. “It’s been rough.”

“I know.” Rey sat down beside him and they stared at the mindless hologram playing in front of them. “Is that a music video with the sound turned off?”

“It seemed inappropriate… And yet, I wanted a distraction.” He leaned in on Rey’s shoulder, black curls still damp from the endless rain on Exegol. “What now?”

“Without your mask, no one except Poe and Finn know who you are. So, you’ll be able to come with me back to the Republic. They’ve agreed we’ll keep your identity secret, and with General Hux and most of the First Order dead or imprisoned, it’s unlikely you’ll be recognized.”

“Right. With Hux dead.” Ben shifted. “Rey, what if he isn’t dead? Would that change anything?”

Rey turned and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you took care of him.”

“I locked him in one of the smaller rooms in the Emperor’s Citadel so he couldn’t intervene.”

Rey absorbed the information with tight lips. “Well, he can’t leave. So when the rest of the Fleet gets here, we’ll catch him.” She turned to Ben and he could feel her reading him. Her strength was comforting and unwanted at the same time. “…What is he to you?”

“Annoying.” Ben sighed. “And competent. Brave. He was the only person I couldn’t break.”

“Do you… love him?” She cautiously asked, her emotions guarded.

“No. No, of course not. It was never anything like love. I don’t think he’s capable of it. He wanted my favor. I wanted to understand him.” Kylo stared into nowhere at the bulkhead. “I didn’t expect… Well, I knew he was… It’s hard to explain…”

“What is it, Ben? You can tell me anything.” Rey encouraged.

“Rey, I- Hux is –“ Kylo huffed a small breath and closed his eyes. “Hux is pregnant. And it’s mine.”


	6. Child of Palpatine - Child of Ren

Thrawn reached out to the Force and up into the atmosphere. The unique environment of Exegol was due – in large part – to the huge amount of ions and energized particles in the atmosphere. Most small ships would be torn apart in the atmosphere upon approach. Force users could create a shielded bubble around a small shuttle and protect it from damage. They could also be shielded using certain alloys discovered by the Chiss. Most Imperial and First Order shuttles didn’t have the shielding because it was both expensive and rarely used. 

The ions were like a writhing, churning sea. Thrawn reached forward through them and parted the field of energized matter. They slipped between the glittering things. Each one so tiny, but so powerful. Thrawn liked to imagine others could see them reflected in his eyes after so long staring ahead into their brilliance. But the Force-blind were just as blind to the wondrous beauty of Exegol’s dynamic atmosphere as they were deaf to the cacophony of life surrounding them.

Reaching the safety of open space almost disappointed Thrawn. He would gladly cruise in the ion sea for a little longer. “Your transmissions should reach farther now, Lieutenant. I suggest you send a coded burst transmission to your flagship.”

“Is there anything I should say?” Mitaka addressed the question openly, unsure where they all stood. He was probably used to having orders contradicted or overridden by Kylo Ren.

Thrawn turned his eyes to General Hux. “General?”

“Give them the all-clear codes and our location. Have them come for us.” Hux ordered his aide, then turned to the Emperor. “Now, I must ask for an explanation.” His exhaustion was written beneath his eyes and in the lines of his mouth. His fingers were bleeding again. They needed tending.

“You’ve been through an ordeal. Perhaps you should rest.” Thrawn suggested.

“Not yet. I want to be satisfied where I will stand when the Finalizer arrives. If she arrives.” His green-blue eyes were full of distrust. Justified suspicion.

“I will have to work hard with this one.” Thrawn thought to himself. “I will have to show him I trust him, and at the same time test that.” Puppets were of no use in the Empire. His Father learned that long ago. “Very well. Perhaps you can show me to the living quarters and we can speak in private.”

“I trust Lieutenant Mitaka with my life.” The General straightened up a little more. “But if it pleases you.” He turned back to the Lieutenant. “Remain here until I call you.” He turned and led Thrawn into the dining area. “Forgive me, I’m not comfortable with taking you any further back.” He sat down in one of the two chairs. The robe rode up and bustled around him like a bird’s nest. The sleeves slipped over his hands every now and then. It gave him a childish, frail look. But that childishness did not carry to his eyes. Always on guard, this one. 

“Of course.” Thrawn settled in opposite him. There was no way to bring their eyes level without being condescending, and Armitage would not appreciate anything of the kind. So, he didn’t bother. He sat up as he normally would. “What do you want to know first?”

“It might be nice to start with who you are.” The General’s voice was measured. 

“You know my name. It speaks for itself.” Thrawn touched the sigil on his breast – three interlocked triangles. The Line of Bane and Sith. “I am the second son of Emperor Palpatine – by Mitth’raw’nuroudo. Or, as you would know him, Grand Admiral Thrawn.”

“Both Emperor Palpatine and Grand Admiral Thrawn were male.” Armitage picked it out at once. 

“So are you.” Thrawn countered, and then brushed past the comment. “But you are right. I am not what you would call a natural child. I was grown. Nurtured. And trained to become my Father’s Heir.”

“You’re a Force User.” Armitage’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“You will find me quite different from Kylo Ren. In fact, I think you would approve of my training.” He folded his arms across his chest. “The details would likely go over your head, but I was not simply installed into position – as Kylo Ren was. I slogged through the life of a lieutenant and while my ascendance was accelerated by necessity, I did have to prove myself at every turn.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to fawn in worship simply because you spent some time as an actual soldier.” Armitage acidly replied. 

“I expect nothing of the kind. I do expect you will give me a fair moment to win your loyalty. And let me prove myself to you.” He turned his head towards the counter and began making tea, lifting a finger to guide the hot water into two cups and pull out two packets. Instant tea. Barbarians. He’d give the General a box of real teas when he decided what to do with the redhead. “Needless to say, my Father had a far better plan than to wait for death on a dead planet.”

“I’m on the edge of my seat.” The General was sitting very straight and folded his arms.

“There is an Empire Grand Admiral Thrawn and my Father constructed for years in Wild Space and the Unknown Regions. It has grown to the size of sixteen sectors and I rule there, uncontested.” Thrawn decided to play his largest card right away. The sheer size and resources of his Empire would impress Hux.

And they did. Hux sat bolt upright and his eyes widened. “Why have we never heard of this?! Why did you never come to our aid?!”

Thrawn held up a hand. “Let me explain everything, and then react, please.” He kept his red eyes on Hux’s own until the General settled back a little. “The First Order was never meant to be more than a smokescreen. A distraction so the Republic would not realize the true threat was far larger and more insidious.” He smiled slightly, pleased by the pun. “You and your fellow officers exceeded all my Father’s expectations. If it were not for the Republic’s galactic unity – and the folly of Starkiller base – you would have succeeded in wiping out the Republic and the Empire would have risen. But you lost the moment you fired Starkiller.” He frowned. “And destroyed five valuable planets.”

Armitage glared right back. “To restore Order, I would lay waste to far more.”

Thrawn met his eyes. “I do not pretend to stand in judgment. I have obliterated troublesome worlds before. When there was no other choice. But I do not approve of planet-destroying super weapons. They are, on the whole, wasteful.”

Armitage was silent for a long moment. “What was the point? Of setting us up and letting us go, like wind-up toys? Was Rae Sloane in on this plan?”

“No. Rae Sloane was carefully manipulated and nudged into creating the First Order out of the remnants of the Empire. While she worked, distracting the Rebellion and the New Republic, most of Higher Command and the rest fled into the Unknown Regions, summoned by my Father’s signal under the deepest secrecy. We would have called her as well, but the First Order needed a competent head able to lead them. In the long run, a necessary sacrifice, but not one I reveled in.” Thrawn briefly raised his cup of the bitter, instant tea to the great woman. “As for the point, to allow my Father’s empire to watch and wait, gather strength and eventually consume the Republic wholly.” He pressed his lips together. “The reason the Old Republic failed is the same reason the New Republic will fail. The same reason all Republics fail.”

“Too many voices and cultures all trying to relate to each other.” Hux immediately broke in, voice becoming deeply passionate. 

“No. The problem is not diversity.” Thrawn shook his head at once. “And before you go off on another propaganda fueled tangent, it is not freedom either. Or rather, it is not wholly either of these things. The problem with the Old Republic is that it stretched its hands too wide, too quickly. And without a united police force, they relied on the Jedi, who were too few for the task. Further, their galactic constitution was weak and full of holes. Constantly changed to suit every administration. My Father’s administration finally ignored it entirely. And that – not the rise of the Clone Wars or even the Sith in office – was what spelled the death knell for the Republic.”

“When they abandoned the law that once bound all of these people and ideas together, they signed their own death warrant.” Hux realized and his voice was filled with something both tormented and at the same time, awed. Thrawn blinked his eyes and slid into the Force, connecting briefly with the General’s soul. He was so open, here. His thoughts echoed and resonated No wonder Kylo Ren was never able to bring himself to physically hurt the General. 

A smaller, but no less bright presence, reached out to Thrawn and wrapped itself around his probes like a babe clutching a parents’ finger. Thrawn curled back around it, accepting its curious pulses and pushing the instinctive affection all mammals felt for young. 

“Emperor?” Armitage spoke and Thrawn blinked back to the real world. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Thrawn smiled slightly. “Just admiring your child.”

Armitage gave him a blank, uncomprehending look. “What child?”


	7. Raspberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will come more slowly here on out. I'm going to aim for AT LEAST once a week, but I'm hoping for once every other day or so.

Armitage stared at Thrawn. The Emperor just couldn’t stop dropping bombshells, could he? The First Order was a smokescreen. Rae Sloane was a manipulated figurehead. He was a fool who’d fallen for it. Snoke was a puppet. Kylo Ren was a traitor. Emperor Palpatine used Grand Admiral Thrawn’s and his own genetic material to create a perfect replacement. 

And Armitage was with child. Kylo’s child, of course, he’d been with no one else for quite some time. Wearily, he slugged back more of his bitter and revitalizing tea. The Emperor was hovering in concern. “Did you not know?”

“How could I have known?” Armitage huffed, but looking back there were signs. He was definitely more on edge than usual and he’d been vomiting. He felt like vomiting now, in fact. But he hadn’t eaten more than a ration bar and he didn’t want to lose it. He unfocused his eyes and fought back the nausea. 

“I thought Kylo Ren would have informed you. Assuming he sensed it.” Thrawn brought out the first aid kit and laid out bacta patches and bandages. Armitage let him take his bitten and abused hands in his own, much larger ones and tend them. The bacta would sooth the sting of his open and broken cuticles. 

“He didn’t know.” Hux snapped at once. “And he would have told me if he did.” After everything both their parents had done to them, he wouldn’t simply abandon his own child. Not without explanation, and not to run off with the scavenging harlot from some backwards junkyard!

Thrawn was quiet briefly. “I find it extremely unlikely he didn’t know. Your child has a very distinct and powerful presence even now. Radiant, I would call it.” He wrapped a bacta patch around Hux’s middle finger and bandaged it in place. 

“You don’t understand Kylo. His parents abandoned him with his uncle in some kind of jedi school because they couldn’t deal with his personality.” Hux’s heart twinged as he thought back to all the intimate things they’d shared and done. “He’d never leave his own child behind. Never.”

“Before the events of this past week, did it ever occur to you he would betray you all to the Light?” Thrawn raised an eyebrow. His pupil-less eyes had a way of looking both sharp and unfocused. The comment stung, but didn’t burn so badly Hux couldn’t recognize it as true. 

He looked away. “He wouldn’t.”

Thrawn dropped the subject and continued to tend his hands. 

“Can you tell what it is?” Hux asked, resting his bandaged hand on his abdomen. 

“Healthy?” Thrawn suggested. “If you mean their sex, I can look.”

“No. Healthy is enough.” Armitage rested his head against the wall, weary. He was a single mother. General of the First Order, possibly the most wanted man in the galaxy, and a single mother to a child who wasn’t even… “How old are they?”

“Not very. Two months at the most. They're a little smaller than a blackberry.” Thrawn reached for the child again and played with it gently as he tried to find out more about it. Nascent children had no concept of time except as a factor of how large they were, how bright the lights outside were, how loud the voices, and how well they could turn over and swim in their shifting and warm ocean. “You probably should stop wearing your corsets though. It’s not as big an issue now, but restriction during mid and late stages of pregnancy can be problematic.”

“I only wore them for...” Armitage huffed slightly. “You wouldn’t understand. I can stop wearing them easily.”

“You wore them because they looked good on you and made you feel confident, powerful, and sexy.” Thrawn countered. “Why wouldn’t I understand that?”

“Why would someone like you ever need a piece of clothing to feel powerful?” Armitage arched a red eyebrow.

“Why do you think I designed this uniform?” Thrawn asked, gesturing down at his black and white paneled tunic. It would be more impressive if it weren’t so filthy, but Armitage could see what he meant. The black paneling on the sides emphasized how tall and fit he was, while the white field and his skin contrasted with each other. He certainly would stand out in a crowd. 

Armitage chuckled softly as he thought of Thrawn trying to find the perfect combination of white and black to emphasize his best and most intimidating features, but it soon died under the weight of everything he’d been through. 

“You should rest.” Thrawn encouraged again. “I will wake you when either the Chimeara or the Finalizer reaches us.”

“The Chimeara?” Hux asked as he stood up from the table, Thrawn’s robe slipping down over him and dragging on the floor. 

“My flagship. Should you decide to accept my offer and become part of my Empire, I will accompany you on your Finalizer to collect the rest of the remnants of the First Order. If you decide against it, I will leave with the Chimeara and you may go on as before.”

“Very well. I will think on it.” Hux slid away into the sleeping quarters behind the mess.


	8. Return to Exegol

Rey took the news fairly well. At least, she thought so. The revelation confused and rocked her, but she didn’t immediately jump out with all the questions fighting to make their way out of her mouth, so she congratulated herself on self-control. This complicated things on so many levels. While it wasn’t generally well known who ordered Starkiller Base to fire, most of high command did. They would want a public trial. Perhaps even a public execution. 

Rey studied the laws of the Republic during her time with the Resistance. There wasn’t much to do while flying back and forth between Ach-To for weeks at a time except study. Of course, she came across the Mother Protection Clauses. Death sentences were always deferred for pregnancies. There were some spectacular cases of hermaphroditic and self-propagating species living out the rest of their natural lives in prison instead of facing the firing squad by consistently producing a new pregnancy. 

But the Republic was just barely picking itself back up after the destruction of the Senate. Who would care about a protection clause in the face of five planets’ worth of destruction? 

If she really thought about it, Rey blamed Snoke for Starkiller. Kylo, Hux, the whole First Order were all his tools. But there was no way to guarantee the others would see it the same way. After the massive strikes against the First Order Fleet and their bases, pretty much all of the high-ranking figures of the First Order were dead. All that was left was Ben Solo and Armitage Hux. And Rey would die before she let anyone use Ben as the scapegoat for Snoke’s crimes. 

But someone had to pay. She knew from her time on Jakku. There always had to be someone to blame. And all those times someone had to die for it. 

She wouldn’t let that person be Ben. But she couldn’t let it be Hux either. Snoke and the Emperor were dead. Couldn’t that be enough? Maybe. But it would take skill she didn’t think she had. Political skill. “We should go back to the planet.” Rey finally spoke up. “Get to Hux first and get them hidden away somewhere. At least until the baby comes.”

“Do you really think we could?” Ben looked up, hopeful. Rey loved that expression. It was new to his handsome face. She’d seen it on the members of the Resistance – on both of Ben’s parents – but never on him. At least, not until today.

“I think so. It’s only us on this ship, after all. We can take him to Jakku. I know how to hide someone there.” All those years spent being hidden taught her a few lessons, after all.

“How will we explain not being here to the rest of the Fleet?” Kylo scrambled to his feet, on board with the plan at once. 

“We’ll say we were chasing other shuttles into space. The Emperor could have called some of his followers to come and try to make sure we never left, after all.” Rey led into the pilot’s seat and settled into the controls, preparing to guide them down to the planet’s surface. “You push aside the ions. I’ll pilot.”

“Maybe you should push aside the ions.” Kylo suggested as he reached for the Force. He’d tried this before and the ions burned him then. 

“I can’t, Ben.” Rey shook her head. “I’ve never been able to manipulate things on the Force’s level like you have.” She was fully capable of brute-force actions. Lifting rocks, leaping, manipulating minds, that was all simplistic. But something complex and mechanical – like pushing aside millions of tiny, atomic dynamos? No. Kylo was the one who moved matter across worlds, who stopped lasers in their tracks. 

“But – All right. I’ll try.” Ben reached out to the ions and tried not to flinch when they flared and flickered. He reached out and shunted them away, clearing a path through them and forcing them out of the way. Pushing them back. The burning was all in his mind. In his mind. Even though the energy felt like Hell, even though it burned into his skin like a million concentrated beams of light. Even though everything around him was too hot or too dry or too crisp, he kept going. It was all in his mind. In his mind. In his mind. 

IN HIS MIND. IN HIS MIND. IN HIS MIND…

He was so taken up with his pain and Rey so distracted by it, neither noticed the serene exit of a different shuttle. One guided by a Force User so much more dark and precise than either Rey or Kylo could imagine. He looked out on the ion storm and saw so much beauty and light in the same place Kylo found only pain and terror.

But for Kylo, there was only the mantra and forcing himself through the last few inches of atmosphere.

“Kylo! We’re through, you can stop!” Rey cried out. 

“There has to be – A better way.” Kylo collapsed to the floor, heaving and huffing out harsh breaths. “There has to be a better way…”

“Next time, I’m shielding you through the atmosphere.” Rey knelt beside him, pressing a hand to his forehead and dulling the pain. “I had no idea it was so bad for you…”

“How did you get through without pushing them aside?” Kylo asked, sitting up. His head felt like it would split any moment. 

“I didn’t. My shuttle crashed. I just used the Force to keep it from taking me with it.” Rey explained and they made their way back into the citadel. “…Where did you say you left Hux? I don’t feel anything. Or anyone.”

Kylo could barely reach out, but he could feel the truth. “…There’s no one here. The citadel is dead.”

“I know we were knocked out for a while after we finally made it out of the atmosphere, but the chronometer said it was only three days. Did you leave Hux with food and water?” Rey asked, looking at Kylo. 

“I put him in one of those cells we passed. There was supplies. I’m sure of it. All I did was cut the lock.” Kylo led the way. “Do you think that pulse we felt when the Empire died might have…?”

“I don’t know, Kylo. Exegol was dead before we came. There was no way to tell.” Rey shook her head. 

“If I trapped him here and left them to die…” Kylo closed his eyes. “I just wanted to keep him out of the way.”

“I understand, Kylo. No one can blame you. Let’s just see if he’s still there, all right?” They pushed on, through the dark.


	9. The Chimeara

Hux squeezed his eyes shut as he hovered between waking and sleep. How long had he been resting? It felt like too long and too short at the same time. He could hear voices speaking in the living area. Mitaka and Thrawn speaking to each other. They seemed to be talking about little things. Unimportant things. What rations were served and when the First Order set its shifts to change. 

Mitaka probably didn’t want to talk about anything more important just in case they decided to part ways. But Armitage would put his mind at ease soon. He pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes, peeking at a mirror. He was a mess. The comfortable and soft robe was also a mess, but he didn’t mind too much. He’d have it laundered and pressed before he returned it. 

Cuddling down into the fabric, he sighed. It smelled soft and a little salty, not at all like Exegol. He gently extricated himself from it and dug into his drawers, pulling out his spare underwear and the vac-pressed uniform. He missed his coat already. But at least he wouldn’t face his ship in borrowed finery. Over-sized finery at that. 

Now he was away from Exegol and he’d had time to calm down, Armitage analyzed the situation. First, Kylo left him. To become Ben Solo or whatever he called himself now. Second, he was pregnant. If Kylo knew, he’d abandoned his own child. If Kylo didn’t know, he was the same, incompetent idiot Hux always thought he was. 

But if he knew… Hux sank down onto the bunk again and covered his eyes. If he knew, what did that mean? Did he not care? What about all those nights they spent, whispering together about exactly what formed them? Was he lying or did they just not matter?

“You were a convenient incubator.” His mind whispered harshly. “A warm womb to keep his baby safe and deliver on time. With convenient feeding capabilities. And now he’s found a better incubator.”

He shrank on himself. It made sense. And he’d been so starved for affection and his superior’s approval, he’d fallen for it. The door to the sleeping quarters opened. “General?” A smooth, cultured voice broke into his reverie. “My ship is here.”

Armitage looked up. “Thank you, Emperor.” He hoped his distress wasn’t too obvious. But if Thrawn’s expression was anything to go by, it was. The Emperor glided forward and settled next to him on the bench. 

They were very close, but both maintained the distance between them. Thrawn examined Armitage with his deep, red eyes. They were larger, somehow in the dark. And not intimidating. “…You’ve been a very brave man for a very long time.” The Chiss hummed. “It’s not fair that I have to ask you to be even braver.”

“That’s life.” Armitage’s voice was a little rough. “What do you need me to do?”

“I’ve tasked Mitaka to enter the Chimeara’s hangar bay. If you wish, you can accompany me on and meet some of my High Command. Even if you ultimately decide you will take your chances, it would be good to know each other.” Thrawn advised. 

“No. The First Order – whatever’s left of it – stands with the Empire.” Armitage got to his feet. “And it would be an honor to meet your High Command.”

“Good. I’ve ordered a lunch prepared.” Thrawn stood as well and they fell in step as they left the room. 

The Chimeara must have been a beautiful ship. Armitage could tell simply by how clean and polished the hangar bay was. The troopers were out in their formations. He noticed their helmets were modified: Clear visors covered their faces, letting him see each one. No chance of Rebels taking these suits of armor and using them as a disguise. As one, every officer and trooper snapped to attention and saluted as Thrawn appeared, his short cape trailing behind him. 

Armitage and Mitaka fell in behind Thrawn as they approached a Captain, who saluted as well. Everyone wore a red band with the Imperial Sigil in black on it. “Captain Needa.” Thrawn blinked his eyes in greeting. “How is my ship?”

“Smart and ready for action, Emperor.” Needa saluted. “We’ve prepared the lunch you asked for in the war room. Lead General Veers, Minister Piett, and Grand Admiral Pelleaon are waiting there.”

“And my uniform?”

“Ready and waiting, sir, in the ready room.” Captain Needa stepped onto the turbolift with Thrawn. “Welcome home, sir.”

Thrawn absorbed the greeting and Armitage and Mitaka remained silent, counting the floors they passed.


	10. Lunch with High Command

Thrawn briefly disappeared to change out of his filthy uniform and Armitage and Mitaka were left alone with Captain Needa. Armitage studied the young man. He must be a descendant of the first Captain Needa. He was too young to be the officer Darth Vader choked to death, and he had blonde hair instead of brown. 

“Hello, you must be General Hux.” Captain Needa greeted with a salute. “Welcome to the Chimeara.”

“Thank you.” Armitage saluted back. They stepped into a conference room with a long table and chairs. Most of them were filled with officers – no one below general or Captain. Except for Mitaka, who had a seat beside Armitage. Thrawn’s was at the head. It was a very formal set-up.

“General Hux.” The Grand Admiral with a bushy mustache saluted. “I am Grand Admiral Pellaeon. It’s good to know you’ve decided to work with us.”

The Emperor kept his subordinates well informed. Armitage wondered how he did it. He must have a long-range comm or transmitter somewhere on his person at least. Either that or he’d inherited Mitth’raw’nuroudo’s tactical intelligence and combined it with Ren’s Force gifts to recognize the possible outcomes and prepare his subordinates with keywords or some form of code. 

“It’s good to meet you as well, Grand Admiral. I look forward to seeing your beautiful ship in action.” Armitage complimented. 

“And you will, in due time.” The Grand Admiral agreed. “Though we do require some repairs before that happens.” 

“What happened this time?” A Moff – whose face flickered as she turned to the Grand Admiral.

“Calm yourself, Moff Alcibiadine.” The Grand Admiral lifted a hand to settle her. “We ran into an unexpected patch of asteroids, that is all. A few cannons were damaged, but we shot down the majority of the asteroids before they could hit us.”

“Thirty years and the Unknown regions still manage to surprise us.” Moff Alcibiadine shook her head. 

“It can’t be much easier where you are.” Lead General Max Veers – one prosthetic hand, one prosthetic leg, and a shining, silver eye in his head – pointed out. 

“No, I didn’t say that. But the surroundings are far more predictable, once you map them.” Alcibiadine conceded. She turned to Armitage. “From what we know of you, you are quite the engineer. Perhaps you’d like to take a look at our scanners and see if you can’t help us map the damn place.”

“If it’s within my power, I will gladly do anything to help.” Armitage agreed. 

Thrawn stepped into the room. “Greetings, my friends. I see General Hux has introduced himself. Has Alcibiadine started complaining about the Unknown Regions yet?”

“I was just getting started.” Alcibiadine turned to the Emperor. 

“Per my last communication with all of you,” Thrawn sat down at the table, back straight, “My Father is dead. I will take his place as Emperor.”

The officers bowed their heads, as did Armitage and Mitaka. There was a moment of silence, then Thrawn lifted his head again. “Alcibiadine, make your report.”

“We are continuing to gather resources for the project. Our newest docks have been completed. With your permission, Emperor, I intend to name them Kurast. For the head engineer.” The Moff made her report at once. 

“I see no reason not to. Very well. Kurast Shipyards it is.” Thrawn laced his fingers. “A request, if it would not be too much trouble.”

“Any request from my Emperor is an order in my mind.” 

“Place a monument to my Father in a common area on each of your starbases, ships, and shipyards. I will announce a day of mourning soon.”

“It will be done, to the Emperor’s honor.” The Moff spoke up again. “It’s good to see you in one piece. Your Father’s death will be mourned by all, but we will not be paralyzed.”

“And it is good to see you well, Alcibiadine.” Thrawn settled in as a droid brought plates of rich food and condiments in. “Does the Republic suspect your presence?”

“Not a whisper, not a glance.” She shook her head. “We are invisible.”

“Good. Then be back to your business and your family.” Thrawn dismissed her. “There’s no point in you being away from them for a meal you can’t eat.”

“Wise as always, Emperor.” She stood up and bowed and her hologram vanished. 

“Moff Alcibiadine is stationed in the deep core.” Thrawn turned to Armitage and told him. “For her safety and the safety of her subordinates, we never mention a concrete location over comm lines.”

Armitage raised his eyebrows. “I thought the deep core’s radiation was too intense for any permanent exploration, and the core was so barren there was no point.”

“My Father and the Ancient Sith spread that information as far and wide as possible to protect their strongholds and the Star Forge.” Thrawn picked up his knife and sliced into his bleeding steak. “The radiation is extremely intense, but there are means to shield from it. It makes work slow, but not impossible. In spite of that, Alcibiadine has made incredible progress.” 

“I would love to hear more.” Armitage took up his own knife and bit into the first real food he’d had in days. He felt the old stab of guilt at eating such good rations when the men were limping along on nutrition packs. But he was too hungry to feel too bad about the steak and tubers. “If I could see the plans for this shielding, I’m sure I could help improve it. Perhaps make it easier to use.”

“I’m sure you could help us a great deal with your engineering background.” Grand Admiral Firmus Piett spoke from across the table. He sat beside Max Veers. “Starkiller base – terrible as it was – was an incredible feat of engineering.”

Starkiller cast a slight pall over the meal. Thrawn cleared his throat. “Starkiller Base was Snoke’s madness. Snoke is dead. We will speak of him no longer. Starkiller, Snoke and Kylo Ren are behind us. From now on, we will move on.”

For a moment, the table was silent. Then, Lead General Veers spoke up. “I know I would very much like to know what we’re going to do now, Emperor.”

“We keep to the course.” Thrawn snapped his teeth down on a small, purple cabbage roasted with garlic. “We arm and recruit and prepare ourselves. And when the time comes, we will swallow the Republic whole.”

“Hear, hear.” One of the Moffs present smacked the table with one hand for emphasis. “Sooner, hopefully, rather than later.”

“General Hux.” Thrawn turned the full intensity of his gaze on Armitage. It felt like a bolt of stray electricity had hit him. “I intend to put you in charge of a special division of engineers and shipyards. I want you to create new ships and weaponry that will help us destroy the Republic with minimal damages to lives and resources.”

It was quite different from any assignment he’d had before. The First Order’s mandate had been obliteration. But he knew he was up to the task. “Assign me the resources, Emperor.” He sipped the glass of Juri juice. “And I will strike fear right into their foul hearts.”


	11. Supposed Dead

Ben and Rey searched through the Citadel. But the further they went, the more certain they were there was nothing left alive. 

Rey kept her eyes on Ben. Whatever they found, it wasn’t going to be pretty. The last thing he needed was to relapse into the vulnerable state Snoke took advantage of. Snoke was gone. And Palpatine was dead, but the Dark was still there and it was so strong on Exegol.

Ben led her to the cell he’d locked Armitage in and they found the door forced. “He got out.” Ben observed, rushing in and checking. “And there is water and ration bars!”

Rey looked at the lock. Ben’s lightsaber was melted straight into it, with no regard for other cables or wires. It was a deep pit of slag. “Good. But that still doesn’t help us find him.”

Ben came out. “Maybe it does. Look, the box is almost full.” He held out the box of ration bars. Three were missing. “And there were three wrappers on the berth. He can’t have gone far.”

“Unless there’s another shuttle somewhere here.” Rey cautioned Kyo, trying to keep his expectations low. 

“Hux knows about the ionic atmosphere. He’d never try to leave without a Force user to keep them back.” Ben asserted at once. “He has to be here. Maybe we just couldn’t sense him through the atmosphere.”

“Ben, if that were true, one of us would sense him now.” Rey pointed out. 

“Just help me look. He can’t have gone too far.” Ben rushed back towards the shuttles. “I remember where I left the First Order shuttle, come on!” 

Rey sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling. This was not going to end well. She had a bad feeling about it. She ran to keep up with Ben, but she was too late. She felt a wave of his anguish in the Force and doubled her stride. 

She found him standing over a collapsed, headless figure. A spray of blood and brain matter on the wall behind it. “No…” Ben whispered. 

“Ben…” Rey hugged him. 

“No, he wouldn’t! He wouldn’t!” Ben began rummaging through the corpse’s pockets. He found an ID card, a destroyed datapad, and a mangled stylus. “This isn’t him. It can’t be him. It’s a trick!”

This was what Rey was afraid of. “Ben, please – “

“No! He wouldn’t just kill himself!” Ben ripped open the officer’s tunic and exposed a black underbust corset with roses embroidered onto it.

Rey stared at the undergarment for several minutes, then looked down at Ben. “Ben…?”

Ben’s eyes were full of tears. He stared in numb horror for several minutes. When he looked up at Rey, she reached out and hugged him. “It’s him, Rey…”

“I’m sorry, Ben.” Rey held him close. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I never told him…” Ben choked. “I never even told him about the baby. I thought he knew. We never talked about it.”

Rey wondered if knowing would have made a difference to Hux. An unkind voice inside her skull pointed out that he’d willfully sent millions of babies to their doom before. “It’s not your fault.”

“He’d never have done this if he knew.” Ben leaned on her. “I’m sorry.”

Rey wondered who he was apologizing to. “They’ve become one with the Force now, Ben.”

“I know.” Ben sobbed, his dark curls a damp halo. “I know…”


	12. The Far Outsiders

A few hours later, they received a transmission from the Finalizer. Captain Mabry – Armitage’s second – contacted them. Thrawn had Armitage take it in his relatively austere office. “Captain Mabry, status report.”

Captain Mabry was a dark-skinned woman, late to the service and with a tongue that kept her below Admiral. She saluted at once when she saw him. “General Hux, it’s a blessing to see you alive. I won’t sugarcoat things. We’re in trouble. We escaped the Resistance attack, but the hyperdrive is shot and no one knows when they’ll come around to finish us off.”

“Did they track you?” Armitage asked at once.

“Way I see it, if they did track us, they’re taking their sweet time about coming to get us.” She shook her head and folded her arms. “I think we lost them. But if no one comes for us, it’s not going to matter.”

“How badly damaged is my ship?” Armitage’s heart sank.

“We’re holding her together with spit and duct weld. If the hangar bays weren’t destroyed, I’d be worrying about mutineers or deserters. But the only thing left are the escape pods. And half of them are nonfunctional.” She jerked away from something – presumably an explosion or a power short. “Along with most of the systems. Honestly, General, if you do come back for us, I wouldn’t even bother pulling her in for scrap.”

Armitage met Thrawn’s eyes and saw his lips were pursed and his brows furrowed. “How many survivors, Mabry?”

“Fewer and fewer by the hour. The medbay is overwhelmed and I’ve ordered maximum precautions, but with the state of the ship accidents are inevitable.” Mabru shook her head again. “It’s just… Total and utter defeat General. Complete victory for the Resistance.”

“Don’t be so sure, Captain.” He glanced over at Thrawn, who gave him a tight nod, then picked up his datapad and began typing orders. “Rescue is on its way. Prepare the men and keep them calm. We will not abandon you.”

“Thank you, General. You’ll find your ship in as good an order as I can get it.” Captain Mabry saluted and the transmission ended with their hyperspace coordinates. 

“I suspected this might be the case.” Thrawn looked up at General Hux. “I’m afraid most of your fleet will either be destroyed or – as Captain Mabry put it – not worth scrap.”

“I suspect as well.” Armitage leaned back in the chair and pressed a hand to his forehead. “But I hoped at least the Finalizer might have made it in one piece. My poor ship…”

“Mabry must be a very strong-willed and capable woman to be keeping it together as much as she is.” Thrawn opened a commline to the bridge. “Grand Admiral Pelleaon.”

“Yes, sir?” Pelleaon’s face appeared above the desk.

“Prepare the Chimeara to jump to these coordinates and summon Medical Frigate Senbonzakura and Rescue Team Delta to join us there as quickly as possible.” Thrawn shut the commline. “You will have other ships to design and build as soon as possible.”

“My sentiment for the Finalizer is a weakness.” Armitage dismissed it. “She was a good ship, but only a ship. I would be far more put out if Captain Mabry went down with her. She’s one of the best Captains I have in my command.”

“People are always the most important asset. Droids cannot run these ships, these fierce beauties.” Thrawn agreed. “Captain Mabry will have a command. With you, if you desire. But if you think her capable, I’d rather have her over a fleet.”

“She’s tough as nails and sharp as a suture, with a hard streak of common sense that keeps things running like a polished machine. She deserves a fleet.” Armitage stated at once, glad to have someone who would listen. “If she didn’t have a mouth like a barmaid and the will to match, she would have had one long ago.”

“I see. Gilad Pelleaon is much the same. But I prefer honesty and capability to political maneuvering.” Thrawn prepared two cups of real tea – jasmine scented oolong, decaffeinated, and kefir lime leaves with a few drops of lavender honey. Each cup was bright red and fragrant, lime leaves floating just below the surface. “When we reach the Empire’s strongholds, there is much I will show you. All the pieces that make up my Empire – my fierce and beautiful machine.”

Armitage took the cup and looked into it. He took a small sip, then another. Something in him resonated when Thrawn talked about the Empire, the Army, anything. Talking to Kylo – to anyone really – never felt this way. It gave him goosebumps. “Fierce and beautiful she must be, if you speak of her so.”

Thrawn typed a few commands on his datapad and a map of the galaxy with Imperial territory highlighted on it popped into view. “Fiercer and more beautiful than anything I can show here. But for now… This is the depth and breadth of my Empire.”

Armitage almost choked on his tea, eyes huge. “How has the Republic not been swallowed up already?”

Thrawn’s countenance darkened at once. “There are other worries besides the Republic. And I will go into more detail when we reach my strongholds.” He held up a hand to stop Armitage’s protest. “I assure you, this is not some trick. I simply do not think you will believe the destruction our true enemies can wreak without seeing it first hand. It is… Indescribable.” His eyes were filled with the memories of a thousand terrible things and Armitage was silent, waiting. “Suffice to say we need engineers, and we need men. I need you to find these… things weaknesses. And I need you to annihilate them, as you have never done before.”

Armitage nodded. “Scorched earth. That’s more familiar to me.”

“I thought it would be. I realize you may think my processes hypocritical, but I assure you, no species this destructive can be allowed to continue. And while many species within the Republic are destructive – and we will find ways to deal with them – they are not so terrible as these outsiders.” Thrawn sipped his tea and poured himself more. 

Armitage felt unsettled to his core. He placed a hand over his belly without thought and stroked it. “Outsiders?”

“Indeed. Grand Admiral Thrawn’s people – the Chiss – call them the Far Outsiders, because they are not from this galaxy at all. They have come here from somewhere else. They do not negotiate. They do not accept surrender. They destroy at every turn. They revile anything that does not conform to their narrow views. They are – and this is a word I do not use lightly – monsters. I have seen what was left behind after one of their attacks…” He shook his head. “I do not want to speak of it anymore.”

Armitage firmed his lip. They would wipe these monsters from the face of the galaxy – once and for all. He stroked his belly again and his child shifted, unseen and unknown in their warm cradle.


	13. Grand Marshall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest here, I have no idea how to spell "Grand Marshall" and I forget immediately whenever I look it up. So I hope I'm not too horrible and people understand what I mean.

Captain Mabry’s relief when she saw them was palpable. “General Hux. I never hoped to see you again.” She saluted him before bowing to the Emperor. “And you must be the Emperor. I recognize you, I think.”

“Captain Mabry. You would doubtless know my Father’s face and perhaps my other father’s as well.” Thrawn greeted her with a smile and an extended hand for a firm shake. “It’s good to meet you. General Hux has told me much about you.”

“I’d say I hope they’re all good things, but… Well, it’s not the time.” Captain Mabry gestured at the waiting soldiers. “I’ve organized them as best we can. But if you don’t mind, I think we all want to get off this death trap.”

“Agreed. Begin loading the transports immediately.” Thrawn summoned at once. “General, if there’s anything you want to recover from your quarters, now is the time.”

“Assuming my quarters are intact.” Armitage glanced at Mabry with trepidation. “Are they intact?”

“Yes. The officer’s deck actually didn’t have as much damage as the rest of the ship. I’ve had it blocked off because of shorts and not wanting to trap people with the doors sealed.” The Captain replied crisply, brushing a kinked curl back from her cocoa-colored face. 

“I will accompany you, General. I can clear any stuck doors.” The Emperor assured. “Gilad, make sure everyone makes it to the Chimeara.” 

“Yes, sir.” Gilad saluted and stayed behind with Captain Mabry while Thrawn and Armitage went to his quarters.

“I won’t take more than a few items.” Armitage assured Thrawn. He was already apprehensive of what he would need to leave behind. His sofa, for example. Most of Millicent’s toys. But he would settle for just bringing his cat at this point. He’d lost so much already. He hoped nothing had happened to her automatic feeder. There was nothing edible in his rooms without it. 

“Anything you can’t bring with you, I will have replaced.” Thrawn assured him. 

“Thank you, Emperor.” Armitage sighed and pressed a hand to his stomach. 

“Are you in pain?”

“No, just… processing. I will be fine.” 

“Fine is not a descriptor. It’s flat.” Thrawn held up a hand in the air in front of them, flat. The door between the officer’s deck and the rest of the ship opened. The lights were dark. Armitage reached into his belt and pulled out a flashlight from the shuttle. 

“I realize, Emperor. But I doubt I’ll be optimal any time soon. For now, I’ll settle for flat.” His bravado from earlier was slipping away in the face of the shut down quarters. Far Outsiders and New Republic, and somehow Kylo Ren – Ben Solo, whatever – were all out there. It was a big task. Bigger than the one he’d signed up for, even. 

He reminded himself the Empire spanned almost the entire Unknown Regions and calmed himself again, stopping in front of his door. “This one. If you will.”

Thrawn pushed it open and there was a furious meow, a sudden rush of pawed feet, and an impact on Armitage’s chest as he dropped the flashlight and folded his arms around his ginger princess at once. “Millie!”

Thrawn had a lightsaber out and barely managed to keep from cutting his precious cat in half when he realized she wasn’t hostile. “Is this yours?” He asked, his stunned expression comical.

“Yes. This is Millicent.” Hux cuddled her into his face, burying himself in her fur. He soon realized she was much heavier than she should have been. “…And you’re fat. You’re pfassking fat. Why are you fat?”

Thrawn picked up the flashlight and shined it into the room, illuminating the automatic feeder. It had turned over and the bowl broke off the tank, leaving all that delicious fish-flavored meal paste available for consumption. He chuckled. “It could have been worse.”

“Yes.” Armitage agreed, more glad than he could express. If it didn’t break just right, his poor Millie… “But you’re still going on a diet, you butterball.” He fondly hugged the animal and stepped in. Most of his possessions were thrown about. Anything glass was broken in its cupboards. His sofa and Millie’s cat tree were both overturned. 

In the end, he took nothing from his old quarters except his Honors and favorite greatcoat. The medals and tags that spelled out his greatest achievements. And, of course, Millie in her travel crate. They made a rather light burden to carry back. 

“The greatcoat suits you.” Thrawn commented as they walked. “But it will look better with your new uniform.”

“Of course.” Armitage answered at once. The Imperial officers wore a distinctly different tunic from the First Order. “I will be glad to wear the Imperial Uniform. If we intend to phase out the rest of my men's uniforms as well, I would advise we consult the logs and follow the usual cycle. It may look strange for a time, but in a year they all would be cycled and adding an Imperial Insignia would cost less – “ Thrawn was chuckling. “Emperor?”

“My apologies, Armitage.” The Emperor controlled his mirth. “I meant your new uniform as Grand Martial. I will promote you to hold command over your new section.”

“Grand Martial?” Armitage looked up, stunned. 

“Indeed. There’s no title for Grand Martial at the moment in the actual structure, but since you’ll be the head of a special division in any case, your addition was going to lead to questions anyway.” Thrawn went on at once. “And it will maintain the balance of power with the actual Engineering and Construction division. Your direct report will be Moff Etienne, but I expect to be CC’d on everything.” He looked down and found Armitage was still processing. He smiled simply and walked with the man who was getting everything he wanted, absorbing the positive feelings coming off of Armitage like sunshine. 

Sunshine from a distinctly odd and closed-off sun, with a head full of ambitions. He’d absorbed the information about Etienne immediately and was already thinking of ways to subvert the Moff and take control of the whole division. Thrawn’s lips tightened slightly as he read Armitage’s posture and surface emotions. He was very good at locking the Force User out. 

Thrawn decided he would need some way to test Armitage’s true loyalties. Some sort of metric to establish where the General stood. He might have just the thing. One hand brushed over the back of his neck as they re-entered the hangar.


	14. Kylo's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been far too long, but we're back again.

How had she become the leader of the Resistance? Rey couldn’t say. Without General Leia, and with most of the Resistance dead in their final battle with the First Order, there wasn’t a clear line of succession anymore. They needed to return as soon as possible and find a way to put the New Republic back together. This was all meaningless if they couldn’t unite once more.

Hux’s body was in the back of the shuttle as they lifted from Exegol. Kylo wrapped him in blankets and tucked him down into one of the bunks. Rey prepared to pilot the ship up through the atmosphere again. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Kylo closed his eyes and reached for the glowing ions. They began to burn almost at once. But Rey kept her promise to shield him from most of the pain. “What do you think will happen when we get back?”

“We’ll rebuild. Try and gather up the pieces of the senate. Gather the Force users and start training more Jedi. Make sure nothing like this can ever happen again.” Rey tried to be optimistic, but the Empire rose and fell twice in the past century. They’d be back. The Sith always came back. 

“Snoke is dead. The major players, Pryde, Hux…” He gave a guilty glance backwards towards the crew quarters. “Everyone is dead, Rey. Who’s left?”

“Me. You. Poe and Finn.” Rey closed her eyes. “Billions of others. We just need a little time to rebuild, everything will be…” Better? Good? All right? What would it be? After so much destruction, things would never be the same again. And places like Jakku would still exist – surviving on the dregs of a war that should never have needed to be fought except for selfish men and their empty dreams. Emperor Palpatine wrought his dream of destruction.

What now? 

Rey needed to focus on the task at hand. Get back to the Resistance, make sure Poe and Finn really were all right. Assemble the remains of high command. Piece back together the senate. Train the Jedi.

As long as she kept that in mind, she would be okay. Everything would be okay.

Kylo tried to rest in the co-pilot’s seat. His thoughts were scattered, breaking. Hux was dead. It was impossible to describe how much that rocked him. For the past few years, Hux had been a pillar of strength and courage. He’d never thought Hux had it in him to kill himself. 

Rey was quiet, absorbed in her own thoughts. Kylo was left to grieve alone. Why should she care? Hux dead solved one of their problems, and they had too many to count.

Kylo wrapped his arms about himself and breathed in through his nose. 

“Stop being such a baby.” Hux snapped at him once the doors closed. “You’re terrifying my men and destroying my ship. It’s not fitting of any member of the First Order, much less one of its commanders.”

Kylo growled, feral and low. Armitage refused to be intimidated. He stalked right up to Kylo. “Put that toy away.” He pointed at the humming lightsaber.

Briefly, Kylo considered just chopping the General in half. But he closed the blade resentfully. “I will not be scolded by one such as you.”

Armitage rolled his eyes. “The Supreme Leader put you here to complete missions for the First Order’s benefit – not to destroy everything we hoped to build. Wasting resources repairing damage you caused will not help that mission.”

“How could you possibly understand anything?” Kylo scoffed. “Mind your place, General.”

“This is my place.” Hux snapped back, his face flushing slightly as he tipped his neat head back. Kylo was taller, but not by much. “Safeguarding my vessel and attending my mission. I suggest you return to attending yours.”

Kylo glared at him as he left, returning to his quarters to stew next to his Grandfather’s helmet. How dare that General speak to him this way! He had half a mind to return and teach him a real lesson. In fact, the more he thought of it, the better that sounded. 

General Hux was not taken by surprise when Kylo stormed into his quarters, bypassing his locks with his damnable force powers. Instead, he rose from his ice blue couch with a purposeful grace and Kylo stopped dead. Hux was almost naked except for lace panties and a black corset trimmed with cream-colored pearls. “Kylo Ren.” He slid forward as the door closed. “I was expecting you.”

Turning just before he reached the would-be Sith, Armitage poured them both some whiskey. The toned definition of his back and his tight buttocks was clearly on display. Kylo forgot what he’d come for. From that moment, Armitage owned him in ways not even Snoke could claim. 

Which was not to say Hux could control him.

Kylo couldn’t tell if he was lost because he’d lost a leader, a partner, a lover, or the mother of his child. Perhaps all of the above. Perhaps none of it. Perhaps he was just lost, as he always had been.


	15. The Controller

Armitage Hux stared down at the small device in front of him. When the emperor handed him the thing, he was certain it was a joke. The controller had three buttons – two of which had no function. It was such a simple device that it had to be a trick or a trap of some kind. 

Armitage checked his chrono, picked up the controller, and pressed the button once. Only once. It was behind a glass panel and he shut it to prevent any accidents. Small as the device was, according to the Emperor, it had a very important function.

Armitage hummed, scanning the controller. It was exactly what it was supposed to be – a remote transmitter that would control a device from a certain radius. But there were a hundred other ways to do this. In fact, it took him less than ten minutes to program his datapad to release the same command over the same frequency as the controller every six hours. He slipped the remote back into his pocket for safe keeping and set down the datapad, considering.

It had to be a test. A metric for his loyalty. Keeping an eye on Armitage’s intent by giving him a very tempting opportunity for him to try and take control. Either that or it was a way for Thrawn to show exactly how much he trusted Armitage and wanted to work with him. It was definitely a risk, if it was real. If it wasn’t…

Well, if it was an elaborate hoax, the last thing Armitage was going to do was fall for it. He scoffed to himself and picked up his datapad again. Time to get some work done. An EMP cannon wouldn’t design itself.

The major problem with large-scale EMP were the necessary power controls and making sure you didn’t hit your own allies. To counter that, you could do many different things. Some of them were making sure you altered the frequency of the EMP to match with the frequency of the ships’ shields, but if he did that, the rebels might potentially get ahold of the frequency and render the EMPs useless. Further, EMP could be short-ranged. Obviously, that would be a problem if they were trying to silence a planet’s power grid or take down a fleet of ships. But if he could make the EMP self-propogating, leaping from electric pulse to electric pulse – 

There was a tap at Armitage’s door and the general jerked his head out of his work. How long had it been? His stomach rumbled briefly. Longer than he thought, certainly. The tap came again. “Come in.” Armitage adjusted his cap, which had fallen sideways. 

The Emperor stepped into his office carrying a pair of bento boxes. “I thought you might need to eat soon.” He commented with a brief look of amusement. “According to the mouse droids, you’ve been very absorbed in that datapad for the past three hours without a break.”

“Yes. I’m working out the EMP cannons. I think I might have a plan for how to keep the EMP signal going – even after a normal EMP would have shut down.” Armitage began to explain, then stopped himself. “But it’s extremely technical.”

“I can usually follow along fairly well for a layman.” Thrawn commented, setting one of the boxes in front of Armitage. “While I did not specialize in physics or engineering, I have picked up some things from working closely with my designers.”

“Of course.” Armitage nodded his head deferentially. “I simply didn’t want to be rude.” He opened the box and found it was full of sweet and spiced fish, rice, and vegetables. The utensils were wrapped and set on top of the whole thing. “It smells delicious.”

“It’s called Unagi.” Thrawn picked up a slice of the fish and put it in his mouth, chewing. “A kind of eel from one of our supply worlds. It’s plentiful and keeps well for long periods.”

“It’s delicious.” Armitage dug in, careful to mind his manners. The eel was chewy and sweet with a distinctly meaty flavor. “Has it been smoked?”

“Yes, to preserve it and enhance the flavors.” Thrawn arranged a slice of daikon with some of the eel on top of it and put them both in his mouth. “When we reach planetside, you must allow me to show you some of the restaurants we have in the capitol. There’s one I’m particularly fond of that specializes in eel dishes and in a particular style of noodle called La Mian. It’s as much a show as it is a meal.”

“I’m afraid you might find me poor company.” Armitage warned. “I have a passing interest in food, but primarily as fuel for the body. And I rarely have patience for entertainments.”

“Worry not. La Mian takes moments to watch, cook, and eat, but it’s worth it to see at least once. I imagine you would appreciate the technique of the preparation as much as the dish.” Thrawn dug his chopsticks into the rice below his eel and began eating the sauce-soaked grains. 

“Well, if it’s that interesting, I’ll certainly visit at least once, Emperor.” Armitage agreed, finishing his own serving and closing the bento box. 

“I’m glad. There are many things you won’t have seen before that I wish to show you.” Thrawn stood up and took the boxes. “Have a productive afternoon, Armitage.” 

“Thank you, Emperor.” Armitage smiled and picked up his datapad. The controller, in an inner pocket of his great coat, slipped from his mind entirely.


	16. The Controller - Redux

Thrawn couldn’t help a bit of a smile as he looked over his shoulder. He’d commandeered a good section of the officer’s gym for his work out. Currently, he was cycling through a vertical training work out. Unfortunately for him, the trainer faced a blank wall and not the large mirror along two sides of the gym. Behind him, Armitage was holding a twenty-pound weighted ball and vigorously slamming it into a stretch of blank, reinforced wall. He tended to throw his whole body into the throw – shot-putting the ball from his shoulder and catching it after it bounced on the padded floor. So far, he’d been very steady. Admirably so. Thrawn could measure time by the intervals between each throw, and each impact left a small, colored mark on the grey wall. 

Thrawn hit his distance target and checked his heart rate. 202. He’d need some time to cool down before he could start his weight work out or he might bust a vein at this rate. Tossing a medicine ball with the General seemed as good a cool down as any. He picked up a thirty pounder and sidled up next to the red-head. “Mind if I join?”

“It’s a free gym.” Armitage gave him a good-natured nod. He was wearing a bright pink headband and weight gloves. He moved over a step to give Thrawn space in front of the slam wall and threw his weight into a hard and fast shot-put throw. He was wearing a Kevlar vest to protect his abdomen in case of a rebound. 

Thrawn began throwing his own ball. Each impact was loud and echoed through the mostly-abandoned gym. “How many repetitions are you doing?” He asked Hux casually. 

“I’ll stop when I get tired.” Armitage focused and made three throws very quickly. “Or when the ball busts.”

Thrawn had to suppress an immature snigger, turning it into a slight smirk. “Do you bust many balls?”

“Sometimes. Usually, it takes me about two months of heavy use.” Armitage slammed his ball down into the floor to see how high it would bounce. “This one is in fairly good condition.”

“Well, at least they’re recyclable.” Thrawn felt a buzz in his neck and reached up to rub his nape. A quick glance at the chronometer told him it was the eighteenth hour. Armitage had synchronized the pulses of the remote Thrawn gave him to the clock using a datapad. An expected move, but a clever one nevertheless.

“This must remain secure.” Thrawn held out the controller to the newly-appointed Grand Martial. “It is a vital part of my personal security.”

“What is it?” Armitage examined the controller. It seemed very basic – two buttons, each one behind a panel of transparisteel – it could hardly be used for complex systems. “Some kind of switch?”

“In a way. My Father – Force bless him – was very fond of back up plans. He decided – if I went rogue – that he needed some way to control me.” He gestured at the controller. “This is what he came up with. One of those buttons controls an automated medical node in my spine. It needs to be pressed once every six hours or I will begin to suffer debilitating loss of function. The other one is a kill switch.”

Armitage glanced at the red button. “No prizes for guessing which is which, I assume.”

“Simple plans with as few moving parts as possible have the best chance for success.” Thrawn confirmed. “I want you to keep this.”

“Me? Why me?” Armitage asked, cupping the thing. “Isn’t this – well, dangerous?”

“It is. But I trust you.” Thrawn turned away and went on with his business. The controller was a dummy. A decoy. A test. If Armitage tried to use the kill switch, he would know. If he didn’t give the dose of “medicine” Thrawn would also know. The controller connected to a node in his spine, but it wasn’t a medical node by any means. His Father had trained him to be immune to pain by sending agonizing shocks through his nervous system at random times, until he was no longer affected by it. The node remained in his spine even after he no longer was affected by it. No point in removing it. 

And, in this case, it would serve Thrawn well. It would allow him a benchmark to measure Armitage’s loyalty. A useful little tool, even if Armitage would see right through the transparent test. Six hours later, when a bolt of lightning hit his spine, he smirked to himself. Perfect.


End file.
